Secretly In Love
by lookitsria
Summary: At what lengths would you go to deny love?
1. Chapter 1

How do you get to this point? Sitting on the box spring of a bed in a rockstar-esq trashed hotel room with the hotel manager, security, and a few police officers surveying the damage. I threw the fit of all hissy fits all over a man, something that my grandma always warned me never to let happen. I can hear her voice in my head and that tsk tsk sound she used to make when she disapproved of me. I could kick myself for disappointing her yet again but right now the image of him and her is burned into my memory and I can still feel the urge to break things. As the muffled voice of a dispatcher coming from the radio on the hip of the police officer next to me fades away, my subconscious replays the events of the last week or so. In private he started to use the 'L-word' and it absolutely freaked me out. I pushed him away, as hard as I could, afraid of what a real relationship with him would do to my career, not to mention my heart. After having what was notably the best match of my career, no doubt driven by the pure rage I was feeling due to certain backstage events, I returned to our hotel room, the one we shared in secret, and trashed it. Months later I would understand his actions and you would, too, if you gave him the time of day, which I didn't for a long time. But to understand what really happened, we need to go back to the beginning.

* * *

We laid together in yet another hotel room bed, facing each other with smiles on both our faces. We had been secretly dating for six months now and while it was hard and tricky to keep things a secret, it was fun and exciting at the same time. In our six months together, we had taken things slowly. This was probably the slowest relationship I had ever been involved in. I used to throw myself into relationships and turn them sexual on a whim but with my career at the forefront of my mind, I did things differently this time. Once we were alone behind the doors of random hotel rooms across the United States, we'd kiss, he'd hold me as we talked, or we'd joke and tease as we watched some randomly bad reality TV show before falling asleep. We learned intimate details about each other and over time became very comfortable. The happiness and comfort I was feeling was starting to make me nervous. Perhaps I was naive to think it was special that we could feel so close and connected without throwing ourselves at each other. We didn't need sex to make us, us. Just a kiss goodnight and good morning was all I needed. It was all I wanted, for now, at least. I didn't allow my mind to wander to his reputation with the ladies, however random they were. As I looked up at him, he crossed his eyes and puffed out his cheeks and I laughed at his funny face.

"I love your laugh," he told me, running his hand down my side to rest on my hip. The use of the L word made my stomach turn. Love was a glue that bound you for much more than an evening and we could not be us during the majority of our waking hours. Love was not a word we should be using, even if it was just about my laugh.

"Don't use that word," I murmured, wanting to pull away from him, maybe roll to my back and stare at the ceiling, but I couldn't. I kept looking him in the eye.

"What word?" he asked, looking a little confused towards me. He had used the word without thinking, it had come that naturally.

"The L word."

"Laugh?"

"Don't be a smartass." I sounded like my mother and it gave me a chill. This time I did roll to my back, finally prying my eyes off the angles of his face. I had studied his features one night while we were alone, memorizing the curve of his chin and the arch of his eyebrows. Have you ever looked at someone you've seen a million times and have a feeling like you're seeing them for the first time? I feel like at that type of moment, you're really seeing the real them. You notice every nook and cranny of their features and burn them into your memory. It sometimes takes years to have that moment of enlightenment. With him, it happened fast, within a week. I learned him quickly.

That night would be the beginning of what I thought was the end of us. I had been in this position once before and it nearly ruined me both professionally and emotionally. I'd never let that happen again.

No matter how much I loved his laugh, too.


	2. Chapter 2

When I got back to the hotel room and saw his suitcase in the corner, I snapped. The imagine of his hand on her cheek, the same hand that touched me the same way that morning, flashed before my eyes. When I think back on it, it made no sense. He told me he loved my laugh and those simple words made me panic. I had told him to cool it, to take a few steps back. I distinctly told him that a public relationship with him would spoil everything I worked for. That we were slipping with our secrecy and needed to be extra careful. Yet here I was, my arms full of his clothes, watching as I chucked them across the room violently and they rained down everywhere all because I was jealous. It's easy to admit now, though the emotion was undefined as I ripped a few of his shirts and went back to his suitcase for something else to throw. The satisfaction that overcame me when I heard the shattering of the glass lamp on the bedside table made me crave more. Like a sweet drug, I needed more, so I grabbed whatever I could and used every bit of strength I had left to throw things around the room. When his suitcase was empty, I started to grab whatever was closest. The TV crashed to the floor, the mattress was upturned, and the curtains were ripped from the window. The crashing coupled with my screaming must have attracted some attention because just as I threw a paperweight at the mirror, the door flung open and security rushed in.

The room was registered under his name so when they saw tiny little me and the trashed room, the security guards were pretty surprised. As they approached me, I simply collapsed into a heap on the floor, the adrenaline wearing off as reality set in. Boy was I in trouble. My muscles began to ache at their overuse from my match and the one-woman show that was the chaotic room. I had probably been crying for a while now, my mascara running down my face and a false eyelash somewhere on my cheek. I was sweating, panting, and crying when he appeared in the doorway, a few policemen in tow. He must have seen them and beat them to the door. When I looked up and saw the panic on his face, I closed my eyes and buried my face in my hands.

"We're awfully sorry, sir," I could hear the hotel manager speaking to him. "She must have broken in and trashed the place. We received several calls to the front desk and security came as soon as possible but…"

"She had a key," I heard him cut the manager off, then spoke softer. "How much to keep this quiet?"

I don't remember much after that, just that it was taken care of. Security, along with the police, took note of the damages as I sat there in a haze. I was told I could stay in the new room they were arranging for him but had to be babysat and leave first thing in the morning. At that moment, I wanted nothing less than to get far, far away from wherever he was. I found my purse in the mess and kept my eye on it while everyone was still there. Once they were gone and it was just us, I plotted my exit. He was watching me like a disapproving father and just as he opened his mouth to speak, I bolted, grabbing my purse on the way. Thankfully, he didn't follow.

* * *

I remember the day I met him. I was backstage with the other new girls. We were all excited to finally be in a big time arena. We were saying hello to everyone that passed, chatting politely with those who were interested in the fresh meat. My friend spotted him first as he came in from the parking garage, an entrance not everyone was allowed to use. We came in the regular entrance with the arena workers.

We had arrived in New York City together from Florida, where we all resided to be close to the training facility. Growing up across the river in New Jersey meant that I was in charge of our travel situation. I booked our flights into Newark airport, reserved our rental car, and drove the giant SUV we ended up with through the Lincoln Tunnel into Manhattan. We tried to park in the parking garage across the street from Madison Square Garden, but our names weren't on the list. After a brief panic attack, I took charge yet again and we circled the streets of New York until we found a parking spot on the street. Let me tell you that finding a parking spot on a Saturday afternoon in midtown Manhattan that would fit a giant SUV is not easy at all.

Walking the five blocks to the arena wasn't bad for me, I try to keep my high heel wearing to a minimum, but the other girls had a slightly harder time. My Converse All-Stars lead me up to the arena easily enough, but we had a problem yet again getting inside. Whoever was in charge of getting our names on the entrance lists starting today had not done their job. First the parking garage and now the front door. We stood around with our suitcases and the fans who were gathered to get a glimpse of the superstars entering the arena, trying to call anyone we could so we could be retrieved and allowed in the building.

An hour later, an agent walking in recognized us and we were allowed in. The initial walk down the hall was a bit scary but the place was still pretty empty so we relaxed a bit and found the women's locker room. Deciding it was ok to leave our things in there, we explored the inner halls of the arena a bit before settling in what was becoming a busy hallway.

Being vertically challenged, I lifted myself up onto one of the empty crates that lined the hallways. The crates usually stored heavy lighting equipment but they shifted easily when empty. The girls had some fun with this fact before two more settled down on either side of me. Moments later the real stars started to show up and did so in a steady stream for the next hour and a half. As superstars and divas filtered down the hall, we greeted them with smiles and handshakes to those who stopped. Most of the guys were interested in a group of new, young, pretty girls, so they stuck around longer than we expected to, asking us about ourselves and other idle chitchat.

My friend grabbed my arm and gasped, her eyes wide as she faced the entrance. "What?" I asked as I quickly turned to see what she was looking at. It was him, probably the top star of the company, and I knew he was my friend's absolute favorite.

"It's him!" she whispered. I felt like a teenager the way her excitement spread to me.

He wore shorts and a plain t-shirt with a ballcap on his head sitting low over his eyes. He had that million dollar smile on his face as he gave one last wave to the fans outside screaming for him. Once he turned inside, though, the smile wore off. I could see how worn and tired he was but he quickly returned to a smile when an agent approached him and started talking business as they walked down the hall. As he passed us, he smiled in our direction and nodded his head, murmuring, "Ladies," as his greeting.

"He looked right at me!" my friend squealed from beside me but she was wrong. He had looked me right in the eye and even held our stare as he passed. The entire situation gave me a chill and it was a moment in my life that would be burned into my memory forever.


	3. Chapter 3

That day seems so far away from the day our downfall began. I had gone to sleep shortly after our little tiff about him loving my laugh. At least I tried to trick him into thinking I was asleep. I couldn't doze off with so much on my mind so I laid very still with my back to him, staring off into the darkness of the room. My inner turmoil kept flip-flopping between brushing it off and letting this relationship progress into something I felt deep within would be a good thing and ending it all right then and there by waking him up before storming out. As my mind played out every possible scenario, a bad habit of mine where I convince myself that being prepared for the worst is the best thing to do, I must have finally fallen asleep. That night I had one of those dreams that felt like years. It was so long and detailed, spanning over what felt like a lifetime, a lifetime that I was spending with him.

Feeling him shift beside me in bed when he got up in the morning never failed to rouse me from my own slumber and he knew this. Normally, I'd stretch like a cat and he'd kiss me good morning, leaving me to get a few more minutes of sleep while he took a shower. Today, I didn't move and he called my bluff. "You're up," I heard him murmur from his squatted position near his suitcase. "Don't pretend to be asleep because I know you're up." I don't recall ever hearing this tone in his voice before, not even when he told me every torrid detail about the collapse of his marriage. This was a different kind of hurt I was hearing. "I didn't even do anything wrong. You don't have any reason to be mad at me right now." I finally opened my eyes and looked at him.

I realized that his morning kiss was like coffee to me. Without it, my sight was blurry and I felt no desire to move more than my eyelids. Forcing myself to sit up on my elbow was torture. "We need to slow down," were the first words from my lips. My voice was course with sleep.

He turned slowly like in a movie and looked at me for a long moment, disappointment all over his face. "Slow down? It's been six months and I haven't put a finger on you and we need to slow down? Six months and no one knows about us and you want me to back off? How much more can I possibly back off?" The disappointment was turning into anger.

"You don't understand," I tried to fight him, tried to make him see it my way, but his anger took him over quickly. He had the same face he had when he was in the ring giving a killer 'I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it anymore' promo. He really was mad as hell and he wasn't going to take my bullshit anymore.

"Me?" he cut me off, his voice raised, his tone on the verge of rage. I was realizing I had already pushed him too far. At the same time, this was exactly the direction I wanted to go. So I pushed harder.

"Yes, you!" I yelled back, my voice overpowering him. "I've told you time and time again that this needs to remain a secret and you… you're just getting too close." I moved so I was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing him.

"Did you really think that I wouldn't fall in love with you?" were the next sad words from his lips. The anger had subdued again into sadness. I closed my eyes, hoping when I opened them again that the past 12 hours hadn't happened. When I opened them he was still there, only he'd taken a few steps closer to me. I felt suffocated.

"I can't do this anymore…"

Panic immediately overcame his features. "No. I mean, just give me a chance. I… I won't say it anymore. I'll throw the scent off our trail."

I shook my head and rose from the bed. "I need some time away from you."

"No, wait." He tried to stop me as I went to my bag. "You'll see. I promise. You can't go." But it was too late. While he was pleading with me to stay, I pulled on shorts and shoes and zipped my bag up, knowing everything was in there already. I pulled the bag up and pulled the handle out of its storage spot. "Please," he was begging me as I walked to the door. "You'll see, I'll prove it." He kept talking but I blocked him out as I opened the door and left our room. I didn't look back.

* * *

He never once put a hand on me to keep me there. He was strong and I was so tiny, it would have been easy for him to physically keep me there, but he didn't. Begging didn't suit him at all, either. To know that I was that far under his skin that he'd resort to begging was unsettling, such a different feeling from the first time we were alone together.

I had been on the road for just a month and found myself ditched by the girls I was traveling with mid-loop. It wasn't any of their faults, there was just a few scheduling conflicts and I didn't know anyone else well enough yet to catch a ride so I had rented a car myself and was trucking it from Nowheresville West Virginia to Nowheresville Ohio. My stomach announced itself about half way there and I decided a little no name truck stop would be as good as anywhere to get a bite to eat. I settled into a booth near the front windows and ordered a soda as I looked over the menu. When my drink came, I glanced out the windows as I sipped from my straw and saw a big tour bus pulling up into the parking lot where the trucks were. A moment later I did a double-take when I saw him climbing off the bus and walking towards the entrance.

I hadn't picked up my menu to cover my face fast enough because he spotted me, recognized me, and came right over. "Is this seat taken?" he asked and I lowered my menu just enough to peek over it at him. He was smiling at me, his dimples prominent.

"No, it's not taken," I managed to stutter out and he slid into the booth across from me with ease. The waitress brought him a menu, he ordered an orange juice, and I guess I had a dining partner.

"It's always good to see a friendly face, right? Personally, I hate eating alone. I tried to convince my bus driver to come in with me, but he's too professional. He's new. My old driver had to quit, his old lady wanted him home more. Life on the road isn't for everyone, I guess." He talked like we were old friends and I just stared at him like a deer caught in headlights. He was looking down at his menu, oblivious to my shock that he was really sitting there and acting so casual. I picked my jaw up off the table just as he looked up at me and for a second I caught a bit of shyness in his eyes. "Sorry," he apologized but didn't specify what he was apologizing for.

The rest of that meal together had been nice. He toned it down a little for my sake and I eventually relaxed enough so that we had a normal conversation. I had been his puppet that night, doing what he wanted, even if that was just being someone to eat dinner with. Oh how times change.


	4. Chapter 4

After our impromptu dinner date, he became very friendly in public which caused a lot of rumors to start swelling around. All it took was for him to say hi to me backstage with a bunch of people around and word was we were sleeping together. It felt like high school, to be honest, with the rumors and the cattiness. It was hard to deflect it all because no matter how many times I said there was nothing going on, that he was just a nice guy, no one believed me.

A month of dimpled smiles and rampant rumors went by and I was soon distracted by work. They were starting to progress me into a storyline and it felt like all my dreams were coming true until I read the script one day and saw that the storyline I had been dreaming of was quickly turning into a romantic line with not just anyone, but with my dimple smiled semi-stalker.

"Says here that you are to kiss me in a dreamy haze after being saved from near fatality during a match," came his voice from behind me. I had been trying to hide after discovering what was in store for me, knowing that the rumors would be swirling. I turned around to face him, a small frown on my lips. He noticed my expression and quickly tried to make the save. "I mean near fatality? Who writes this shit?"

"Did you make this happen?" I asked before the words could really process. For a split second he looked like he'd been caught but he quickly countered.

"What? No, of course not. The boss just likes your potential I guess." He ducked his gaze down to the papers in his hands. He'd given himself away.

"Just make sure they don't cut my wrestling out of this and we won't have a problem." Looking back I couldn't believe my own audacity. Who was I to talk to this top guy like this? Was I crazy? The Lord givith and the Lord shall take it away. I didn't need to be pissing anyone off so early on in my stint here.

"Well it just so happens that I like your wrestling so you have nothing to worry about," he said with a smile, unphased by the tone of my comeback.

"Alright, well, good," I responded, flustered that he could care less that I had just so boldly spoken to him.

"If you want to practice, I'm not opposed," he flirted and I was instantly turned off. This wasn't the same guy I had dinner with weeks ago. This wasn't the tired man I saw in the hall on my first day here. Hell, this was hardly the same guy who smiled and said hi to me in the hallways.

"No thank you," I laughed and brushed past him to head back to where most of the workers were buzzing around. He had to be kidding me.

* * *

I thought about that obnoxious flirting moment with him as I walked to the ring for my match the night of the hotel debacle. I could barely hear the roar of the crowd, it was like everything was silenced as I stalked to the ring to face my opponent. I imagined him using the same line on her or something similar and her falling for it, falling all over herself and him at the chance to sleep with him. Flashes of his hand on her cheek kept passing before my eyes as I climbed into the ring and as soon as the bell rang, I slapped the same cheek he had been touching earlier.

The storyline called for a slightly psycho hell turn on my part and I really let loose and went with my emotions during the match. As much as I despised my blonde opponent I also couldn't blame her for what I had witnessed earlier. She didn't know that the man she had been kissing earlier had actually been dating ME for the past six months. No, the blame was all on him but with nowhere else to take my aggression out, I poured it all into my match.

Giving credit where credit was due, I wasn't wrestling just any bimbo model. She knew her stuff and could put up a fight so when I let loose, she rolled with the punches, sometimes literally, and the match had been spectacular. We pulled off spots that hadn't been done in a Diva's match in ages and the crowd was hot. In-between rushes of adrenaline that silenced everything around me, I heard bursts of cheers as I hit move after move. I got the pin and didn't linger after my music hit and my arm was raised in victory. I was vaguely aware of how special that match was as I walked backstage and the congratulations started. It felt like everything was in slow motion, people's voices slurring as my adrenaline wore off a little and I went back to the dressing room to get my things. The rest is a blur.


	5. Chapter 5

We slipped into each other's lives so quickly once we warmed up to each other and I got past the thought that he was making our storyline happen for his own benefit. We were forced to spend more and more time together and it often leaked over from our time at the arena to our time on the road. We had signings together, would get food after the shows, and even had the occasional radio or TV appearance. There of course were some rumors about us as we became closer, but I found that ignoring them made them go away faster. We'd actually become friends, sharing stories about each other's pasts, talking about life and work. In a way, he confided in me and over dinner one night, when he was being extra quiet and I asked him what was wrong, he told me he was getting a divorce. It had been a little awkward but his moods were explained after that.

A few weeks after he broke the news to me, he was walking me to my hotel room after getting dinner and we stopped at my door as usual to say our goodbyes. I reached up to give him a hug and kiss his cheek, as we did every night, and for some reason our normal choreography got confused and for the briefest moment, our lips met. I pulled away immediately, blushing, and he apologized but he was smiling that dorky dimpled smile of his. We had kissed on screen before, but that was work and this was different. I gave his shoulder a rough push before saying goodnight and going into my room.

He teased me about it for an entire week until he started to get weird on me. He wanted to hang out still but I often caught him in quiet moods, not saying much over dinner and seemingly just wanting my company. It was again when he was walking me to my room that we had a revelation in what would become our relationship.

"You've been so quiet," I mentioned, looking up at him as we walked down the empty hallway.

He gave a half shrug, eyes ahead as he tracked the numbers on the doors. "Been thinking," he mumbled, very unlike the man I had come to know. He reached for my hand as we walked, which was also very unlike him and I laughed as I pulled it back.

"What are you doing?" I asked, keeping my voice light even though I thought he was going crazy. We stopped at my door and he turned to look at me.

"We should date," he said bluntly and I laughed again but the serious look on his face made me stop abruptly.

"You're serious?" I asked and instantly felt my heart racing and my cheeks blushing.

"Why not? We spend so much time together as it is, why not take it to the next level?" he asked. He was very serious. The semi kiss the week before must have thrown him for a loop.

"You're insane," I shook my head and turned to open my door.

"Give me one good reason why we shouldn't," he said and I whirled around to face him, firing off my answers.

"My career, the rumors, you aren't even fully divorced yet. Should I go on?" I asked and then continued on anyway. "There's already rumors, you know that, right? We get dinner and everyone whispers that we're sleeping together. The storyline has produced this bizarre online community of people who want us together in real life. I've done the date a star thing, if you don't remember all the stories I told you, and it didn't really get me anywhere career wise. All it got me was a broken heart. I got to this position on my own and I wanna stay here on my own, not because of some sexual connection with a top guy. And what makes you even think I…"

He kissed me. I was rambling nonstop and he silenced me with a kiss, a real one, not just lips brushing each other's by mistake. I melted against his soft lips and his hand went to my back to help mold me against him. When we finally broke apart, I was breathless and I blinked my eyes open to look up at him. I turned from him quickly, embarrassed that I had given into him so easily and effortlessly, and opened the door to my room. I opened it just enough to slip inside and forced it closed quickly, my cheeks hot with a blush caused by him, a blush he would bring to my face many more times in the future.

* * *

My blush was a dead giveaway that I was embarrassed, which made it easy for people to pick on me backstage. They knew they'd get a reaction when my face changed colors so people would make jokes or pull ribs all the time.

When we were just friends he would often stick up for me, calling off the guys backstage who took their jokes a step too far, or turning the attention on himself so people would forget why they were laughing at me. This, of course, just made the rumors worse that we were sleeping together.

When we started to date in secret, he stopped this sort of behavior to keep the rumors at bay. It worked for a while, people thought we were drifting apart because we didn't seem as close backstage anymore. What they didn't know was that I was slipping onto his tour bus at rest stops on the highway or he was sneaking into my hotel room on extended stays in cities.

We'd been dating about a month when a sexual innuendo was made toward me as part of a storyline and it carried its way backstage. The innuendo's turned derogatory as the boys club formed near a monitor backstage and he was right in the middle of it. I remember his laughing face when jokes turned to hurtful words. He did nothing.

Our eyes met from across the hall and all I remember feeling is hurt before I turned away and went to the locker room. I showered and dressed before tagging along with one of the girls to the next city, I didn't want to see him at the moment. All I could think about was his laughing face, laughing at me and at my expense. He called me repeatedly that night until I finally just shut my phone off. I avoided him the entire next day until the hurt passed and I actually started to miss him. It amazed me that I could miss him after less than twenty-four hours, but I did. After my match that night I went to the bus and waited for him there.

He looked tired when he finally came on board well after the show ended. He stopped in his tracks when he saw me and I stood from my spot on the couch. We just looked at each other for a long time until the bus gave a jolt and we started to move. The inertia pushed him forward and I was folded up in his arms in no time. "Don't ever do that again," he murmured into my hair. "I had no idea where you were, if you were ok." His tone came out so genuine, he was aching, and it broke my heart.

"I won't," I whispered, and I knew from that point on that this relationship would be trouble.


	6. Chapter 6

I guess I knew from the beginning that he would be both the best and worst thing to happen to me. The best because of how he made me feel but the worst because of how we hid it from the very start.

Knocking on the door woke me the morning after his first searing kiss. When I cracked an eye open to see the time, I realized how early it was and I groaned. We didn't have anything to do today and I wanted to sleep. Thinking it was housekeeping, I yelled something along the lines of 'go away' but the knocking continued and when I finally pulled myself from bed and yanked the door open, I was met with his fully awake and smiling face. He held up two cups of coffee and I stepped aside for him to come in. As I passed a nearby hanging mirror I did a double take and quickly fixed my hair before he could turn back around and get a good look at me. "It's super early, you woke me up," I told him, sitting on the edge of my unmade bed.

"I couldn't sleep. I just kept thinking about last night and I wanted to talk to you. I tried to kill some time by getting coffee," he offered, holding a cup out for me which I took with a small smile. I took a sip of the coffee and smiled a little wider, it was just how I liked it. Of course he knew how I liked my coffee.

"You wanted to talk to me about what?" I asked, knowing full well what he wanted to discuss. He wanted to talk about last night's proposal. He knew I knew, or at least the look he was giving me said so.

"I was serious. I think we should date. We get along so well, we have such a great time together. I think we can do so much more…"

"I can't date you," I cut him off, looking at him sadly because the idea of being with him actually seemed appealing to me. But we couldn't, we just couldn't. I would be risking far too much as far as my career went and I just couldn't risk that, not again.

"Why not? Give me one good reason," he challenged me. His expression was a sad determination.

"My career, for one. I don't want people to think I got where I am because I slept with you."

"Newsflash, people already think that. And being scared isn't a good reason, either, try again."

"Well maybe I just don't like you," I said with a shrug. It felt like he had me cornered.

That dimpled grin grew on his face. "Well I know that's a lie," he said with humor in his voice. He knew he was winning.

"Well how would this even work? We already spend so much time together, how different could it be?" I asked even though I knew the answer. He wanted more, he wanted intimacy. I wasn't so sure I was ready to offer that.

"Dates?" he asked with a shrug of his shoulders. "Sleepovers?" he teased, grinning at me in such a boyish way that it was hard not to jump up and pounce him.

I shook my head back and forth, holding my hand up to stop his suggestions. "No dates. No one can see us, people will talk."

"Why do you care so much about people talking if what you're doing makes you happy?" He made a good point. What did it matter if I was happy and for some reason I knew he could make me happy. But still that nagging instinct to protect myself was overwhelming.

I shook my head slowly. "No public dates," I told him.

"So then we can have private dates?" he asked, perking up.

I looked down at my cup of coffee and took another drink from it before I shrugged. "Ok, private dates are allowed."

If it was possible the grin on his face widened and he held out his hand to me. "Give me your coffee."

"What? No, I'm drinking it."

"Give it to me."

"Why?"

"Cause I'm about to tackle you to the bed and don't wanna spill hot coffee on you," he said with a laugh in his sweet voice. I bit my lip and slowly extended my hand holding the coffee to him. He took it and set it on the table nearby as well as his own before he quickly tackled me to the bed, kissing my neck and tickling my sides so I squirmed underneath him. He eventually stopped his assault and I was left panting to catch my breath, but grinning. His face was just inches above mine and I could feel his breath on my face seconds before his lips met mine and sparks filled the room. My hand touched his cheek and I kissed him back, falling head over heels instantly as I gave into the moment.

* * *

I had been looking for him backstage on the eve of our demise after receiving some good news that my storyline was moving towards a title shot in the near future. Apparently the higher ups had received some good feedback about my image, ratings were up during my segments, and they were hungry for more. And I was ready to give it.

I didn't dare ask anyone if they had seen him, I knew what sort of talk that would cause, so I just wandered around backstage looking for him. I thought I heard that beautiful laugh of his down a hallways and when I followed it and turned a corner I saw them together. I quickly pulled back, peeking around the corner as he laughed again at something she said, grinning at her like she was something special, like she was me.

I watched as his hand lifted and his fingertips touched her cheek. My own hand went to my cheek, to the same place he had touched that very morning as he was trying to win me over as I was trying to ice him out. My fingertips felt cold on my skin, not warm like his had been.

My mind started to daydream about that morning when suddenly I was jolted back to reality by what my eyes were seeing. Their lips were on each other, they were kissing. Her hands were on either side of his head and they were going at it in the open hallway where anyone could see them.

I staggered back from the wall, shocked at what I had just seen. Just this morning he was saying that he loved me, at least my laugh, and now he was kissing some random Diva backstage for all to see?

My mind was reeling. People were talking to me as I passed them in the hall but I made a beeline for the locker room and mindlessly changed into my gear for my match that night. The vision of them together replayed over and over again in my mind, like it was on a constant loop.

I tried to rationalize with myself that I didn't care, that our relationship wasn't even real because no one really knew about us. That because it was a secret it somehow didn't count. But I kept circling back to the same conclusion. It did matter, it was important and meaningful, he meant the world to be because… Well, because I loved his laugh and his smile and the way we joked around. I loved the way he held me and kissed me. I loved him. And loving him was trouble.


	7. Chapter 7

Sneaking around was tricky at first. Sometimes I'd take a cab to random rest stops where his bus would be parked, waiting. Sometimes I'd catch a ride to a hotel and he'd sneak up into the room I was staying in by myself. The trickiest was trying to get to his bus while the show was still running and no one was really around to spot the tiny hooded girl sneak onto the bus before it left for the next city. It was hard, but we did it, and it was worth it once we were alone.

"I think a production guy saw me," I rambled one night as I paced the small 'living room' area, waiting for him to join me once the show ended. "He saw me and has probably told everyone by now." I had hid in silence for the rest of the night until he got there, all smiles and happy to see me. "Maybe I should go."

"Whoa, whoa, calm down. I'm sure it's fine." He came over to me, placing his strong reassuring hands on my shoulders. As always, he wore a smile on his lips that made his dimples show. "You'll just stir up more questions by trying to find a ride last minute."

"I knew sneaking on so close to everyone was a bad idea," I mumbled, ever the pessimist.

"Alright, fine, we won't try it again. I'll get you a room at the next few spots and I'll meet you there. You can catch a ride with your friends. Of course that means less time together," he told me, giving me a knowing look. We were trying this so we'd be together more and he knew that's what I wanted.

"No," I whined, feeling like there was no winning here. "No, I want more time with you," I admitted. I slipped closer to him, tilting my head up as my arms slipped around his middle. He met me with a kiss and instantly everything was ok. I'd sneak around as much as necessary to spend every possible second with him.

* * *

I had gotten so good at being stealthy that avoiding him after the hotel fiasco was easy. I avoided crowded areas backstage, hung out in deserted hallways or in the nosebleed seats of arenas. I caught rides to the next city at the last minute and stayed in my hotel room when most others were out being social. I didn't want to chance seeing him, though it was hard to while the shows were going on. More than once our paths crossed and he tried to stop and talk to me. The more he tried, the more I retreated. I was embarrassed about what I'd done, how I reacted. I was angry at what he'd done, how he could kiss someone he barely knew, someone who wasn't me. I just couldn't face him.

I heard through the grapevine that it was affecting him, as well. I heard whispered conversation between the make-up and hair lady that he wasn't his usual self. The co-workers I rode with from city to city gossiped about his latest piece breaking his heart. No signs pointed to me, thank God, but it hurt to know he was hurting. All I heard were rumors but I knew what I saw. The image of them kissing would never leave my memory. It haunted my dreams and invaded my waking hours. How could I let him consume me so much? I guess love did that.

It took time to get back to normal. After a few months it felt ok to pass in the halls, though if I dared eye contact I could see sadness there, still. Next was lingering in crowded public areas backstage. Then it was leaving the arena with the group. Finally it was joining in when the gang went out for food or drinks at a local bar.

All the while work progressed in the right direction. I continued to act professional and work hard and it paid off. I was in the title scene, losing a few matches but my on screen character was relentless. It all led up to a pay-per-view match and I was booked to win my first title. The Sunday of the show ironically fell on what would have been our one year anniversary. I took this as a sign. It was time for us to talk.

While I had relaxed some backstage, I had still made it a point not to purposely be around him. This usually meant excusing myself from catering if he entered or hiding out backstage if he was in the ring before a show for whatever reason. I knew how his brain worked so I made myself available by sitting in seat in one of the lower sections to watch him as he went over a few spots with his own opponent that night. He caught me watching him and when they were finished, he leaned on the ropes facing me, looking right back at me. I silently placed my hand on the empty seat beside me and he took the queue and slide from the ring, jumping the barrier and making his way to me. I was aware that more than a few eyes were on us, but it was ok. If we were finally going to speak again, it would be in public.

He slide into the seat next to me, facing forward so we were both watching the ring as a new set of people took it over for some practice. "So what'd you think?" he asked, trying to be casual.

"The last spot is ridiculous but you're gonna do it no matter what so what does my opinion matter?" I told him bluntly. Maybe I was still hurt after all this time.

"You know me well," he sighed.

"I thought I did."

"You finally gonna fill me in on what made you jump off the deep end?" he asked. Did he really have no idea why I had been so mad? I turned to him in a huff.

"Don't act all innocent," I told him, my voice raising and drawing some attention but I kept going. "You know what you did. You know it was wrong. Well I saw it all, ok? I saw you ramming your tongue down her throat when you thought no one could see you." Once I started I couldn't stop. I jumped from my seat to get some height leverage on him and he just took it all. "Did you think I'd never find out? Who else were you seeing behind my back?" I asked him angrily, even going as far as to jab my finger into his shoulder accusatorily.

The hard prod got him and he stood then, looming over me. I always lost the height battle. "I never cheated on you, if that's what you're getting at," he spoke calmly at first but when a quick exhale of disbelief left my lips and I rolled my eyes, he started to get angry. "I don't know what you saw, but your delusional little mind is making…" He paused, I could tell his brain was working overtime. "Wait a minute. That night. That night was…" he trailed off and I picked it back up for him.

"That's right, I saw you kissing her backstage. I saw your hands in her hair, on her cheek, and I could see with my own eyes how you wanted it." My voice was raising again and we were drawing a crowd from the ringside area watching us.

"It's really not what you think," he tried to protest, reaching his hand out to touch my shoulder but I slapped it away roughly causing a few 'ohhs' from the guys near the ring. I ignored them and charged on.

"Don't touch me!" I roared. "You're not allowed to touch me anymore. You lost that privilege when you made out with… with that trashy whore! Did you think I wouldn't find out or that I wouldn't care? Did you think that six months of sneaking around was just fun and games for me? Did you really think I didn't love you?"

"You didn't love me," he voice boomed back.

"Of course I did!" I screamed back. "Of course I did and I still do!" Saying it released the floodgates and I only realized that tears were washing down my cheeks when his fingers touched them to wipe them away. I dropped my gaze to the floor, feeling embarrassed and ashamed all over again. "I love you," I told him, my voice absolutely defeated. "And you ruined it."

"I didn't ruin it," he told me in a near whisper. "She came onto me. There was a speck of dust or an eyelash or something on her cheek. I went to wipe it away. She kissed me and maybe it took a few seconds too long to react but I pushed her away. I told her I was in love with someone, I was off the market. She asked me who and I couldn't tell her it was you. I couldn't spoil our secret. But then you trashed the room and you ran and you wouldn't talk to me. I didn't know what happened. I was so lost for so long."

I looked up into his eyes again, believing every word he said. "You love me?" I squeaked out.

He nodded, those dimples so prominent on his cheeks. "I love you. You don't just turn that off like a switch."

I smiled a little, fully aware that everyone was watching us now, standing so close together with his hand on my cheek and my face tilted up to his. "Well don't tell anyone," I teased because he knew everyone had just witnessed our blowup as well.

"I won't," he chuckled and when out lips met I only heard the whoops from the crowd watching us for a second before everything shut off and it was just me and him together again at last. Love did that, I guess. It let you block out everything and focus on it and only it. It made you go crazy and trash hotel rooms, it tormented you when you tried to push it away. It makes you do a lot of things, but one thing remains. It always brings you back together in the end.


End file.
